


Oblivion

by im_beeeee



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romantic Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-16 01:50:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21028301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_beeeee/pseuds/im_beeeee
Summary: I'm not sure where this is going just yet, but in the meantime, please enjoy some adorable fluff & smut with our favourite Mountain Man.





	1. Oblivion

The fire crackles softly as the last rays of sunlight disappear through roots twisted into the ceiling. Muriel’s head rests surprisingly lightly on my shoulder, his breathing deepening as he falls further asleep.

I gaze down at the profile of his face, deftly caressing a small piece of stray hair out of the way of my view, careful not to wake him. The scar on his forehead wrinkles ever-so-slightly as he furrows his brow with a twitch, but he doesn’t stir.

I sigh lightly; my shoulders relaxing as I idly stroke his hair. A smile touches the corner of my lips when I feel the bumpy texture of the braids Morga subjected him to. I’m glad he decided to keep them, even all these weeks later.

We’re entwined on his cot, skin on skin, my legs lazily slung over his thigh. In his sleep he moves his arms already wrapped around me, squeezing me just that little tighter, and I can’t help the soft smile spreading across my face.

_How can someone so hulking seem so small in my arms? He’s practically double my size!_He looks peaceful, almost child-like, as I watch him sleep.

I can’t help but wonder how age will change his features. If the scars will fade, how his hair will grey. A slight sinking feeling takes hold of my heart and my throat tightens when I think about his past – how he got those scars and the trauma it’s caused him.

I curse Lucio in my head, before taking a breath and resigning to the fact that it’s all over and done with. He’s here with me now, and I’ll be damned before anything terrible ever happens to him again.

My sweet Mountain Man.

I press a light kiss to his temple and close my eyes, my arms wrapped around him protectively as I allow myself to drift into the oblivion of sleep.


	2. A Cheeky Idea

I wake with a small start as Muriel lifts his head off my shoulder and shifts his legs out from under mine. He freezes for a second when my eyes flutter open.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says in a low voice, a soft blush and a sheepish look spreading over his features. I blink up at him, my eyes still heavy with sleep. I’m not quite able to form cohesive words yet, so only a soft mumble comes out. He leans back towards me again, and plants the softest kiss where my hairline meets my forehead. It still catches me off-guard how delicate he can be.

I can’t help but marvel at his brawny body as he gets up and pulls his pants on, tightening his belt around his hips. A hint of disappointment and a small frown play on my face, but he doesn’t notice before an unwanted yawn takes over me.

I start to pep up a little more. I swing my legs over the edge of the cot, bringing the furs up to cover myself. He moves, ducking under a low-hanging root, towards the hearth that is now burning very low. I chuckle under my breath as I wonder how many times he’s hit his sleepy head on it before learning to duck under it out of habit.

Inanna must have come in from her hunt while we were asleep. She’s curled up on the furs in front of the fire – best seat in the house – she lifts her head at his approach. He crouches and gives her a quick scratch between the ears before putting another log on the fire. He stokes it until the new log catches alight before putting a pot of water over the fire.

I stand, wrapping the furs properly around myself, and head over to where Muriel is leaning on the mantle watching the fire with his back to me. I wrap my arms around his waist, resting my cheek on his shoulder blade. He tenses; he’s still not used to my touch and all-too-often his reflexes still force him to pull away from me.   
  
He soon softens and lays a large hand over mine, my fingers laced together, pressed flat against his abs. I can feel his warmth through the furs draped around me, the smell of myrrh filling my nose as I breathe him in.

He pulls the lightly steaming water off the fire and tests it with a finger. He glances to a washcloth in the corner of the room as he says “I warmed it up for you.”

My heart melts a little. He’s already started noticing my daily routines – not to mention the creature comforts of life at my shop.

He sets the pot down beside us, turning without breaking physical contact and pulling me into a tight embrace. I can feel his chest rise as he breathes in the scent of my hair.

I lift my head to look up at him, emerald eyes meet mine glimmering in the low flickering light. I can almost feel the deep admiration in his eyes, and it brings out a flush in my cheeks and butterflies in my stomach – no one’s ever looked at me like that before; at least…not that I can remember.

I’m careful not to move too quickly but I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach and wrap my arms around his neck, brushing our lips together lightly. It takes him a second, but he returns the kiss lightly before bringing a hand up to my face to cup my jaw.

He strokes his thumb over my cheekbone and down my neck to my collarbone before resting his hand on my shoulder. A light shiver runs down my arm and goose bumps prickle under my skin at his touch.

“It’s gonna get cold” he breathes against my lips, not wanting to push me away.

“We can’t have that now, can we.” I whisper, smirking against his lips before pressing another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then a cheeky idea pops into my head.   
  
I lace my fingers with his, pulling him gently towards the washcloth; it’s only a few steps (one for him) before I can reach it. I scoop it up in my free hand and close the distance between us again, resting my hand and the washcloth against his bare chest. I flash a mischievous grin at him.

A curious look flits over his face before he realises what I’m hinting at and blushes deep crimson, but he doesn’t appear to want to run away.

I press my hand against his chest a little firmer, indicating for him to take a step back towards the pot of water on the floor. There’s a small stool next to the fireplace…

“Sit.” I instruct playfully and glance pointedly at the stool. His blush turns three shades deeper and his mouth opens to protest. I stop him, putting my index finger over his lips before he can say another word, “when was the last time you let someone do something nice for you?” I don’t plan to take no for an answer...


	3. Your Turn

“I let you do nice stuff all the time” he huffs, then resigns and drops himself down onto the stool, the wood groaning softly under his weight.

I bend to dip the washcloth into the steaming water; his eyes follow me, tracing my curves from head to toe. I spot a gleam of desire in those beautiful bright green eyes as I straighten.

His shoulders are tense when I wring the warm liquid over them, but relax under my touch. He watches my every movement intently, those emerald eyes shining in the flickering light of the fire. It’s subtle, but I catch him leaning into my touch, as if he yearns for it.

I trace the shapes of his carved muscles, letting my hands roam across his shoulders, down his arms, all over his torso, moving further and further down, bending occasionally to freshen the washcloth. I can feel the raised skin of the scars from forgotten battles – though I would wager he remembers every single one.

When I get to his navel a low deep moan escapes his lips and I smirk at him as he catches my wrist, stopping me from going lower.

He takes the washcloth from my hand and drops it in the pot, never letting go of my wrist. He pulls me close as he loosens the furs from around my body, letting them slip down to the floor and leaving me completely exposed.

He licks his lips lightly, causing me to blush and bite my own lip.

He kisses my collarbone as if I’m a porcelain doll that he might break, and whispers, “you’re so beautiful” against my neck. A shiver runs down my spine. I put my hands either side of his face, bringing his mouth to mine and kissing him deeply.  
  
He breaks tenderly from the kiss to pick up the washcloth, squeezing it out easily in one hand. “Your turn” he says in a low sultry voice.

I hide my surprise well, masking it by quickly burying my face in his hair. I guess I’m still not used to him opening up to me like this, but I’ll take what I can get!

He traces the washcloth from the nape of my neck, down my spine, and stops just above my hips, droplets running down my behind and tickling the back of my legs. His hand stretched wide is big enough that he just-about covers my whole back in that one movement; but he continues to bathe me, all the while pulling me in so close that my body flush against his chest.

I pull back a little, watching his face as I wrap my hands around his neck, one hand lacing into his hair.

He closes his eyes and presses his head gently into my palm; I take that as an invitation and gently tug the handful of hair and I’m rewarded with a low grumble in his throat. I pull a tad harder, and his breathing hitches. I can’t help but smirk to myself.

When he opens his eyes again, they’re full of desire and staring deep into my soul.

My heart leaps into my throat, and I can’t string any words together, so my actions will have to suffice. Slowly, not wanting to startle him, I climb into his lap, straddling his broad legs. He inhales sharply and stiffens; sitting extremely still, mixed emotions flashing in his eyes.

“Is this okay?” I whisper, praying the answer is yes.

“It’s okay.” He says softly, visibly relaxing. I settle in against him and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“I’m just…I’m still not used to this,” he admits, his brow furrowing. I meet his eyes, he looks a little sheepish now, but there’s also a touch of frustration? I can’t help the shy smile that spreads across my face. _He’s adorable._

“I mean, I’m not either. Before you, I don’t remember if I’ve ever…” I trail off. I don’t remember being with anyone else before him, and we’ve only been together a few short weeks!

I’m still missing most of my memories. I know I’m basically living a new life now, but it still haunts me that I don’t remember everything from **before**. I don’t even remember _him_ from before – though that might not be entirely my fault...

I shake my head quickly at the thought. “We don’t have to rush, we can take it slow. Maybe we can try to figure out everything together?”

His expression softens as he nods. A small smile plays on his lips. “I’d like that.”

“Would you now?” I tease, resolving to keep the mood light. He blushes harder now, but I drape my arms over his shoulders, looking squarely at him. He squirms a little under my gaze before pulling me into a tight hug. I chuckle against his collarbone – I know by now that him hugging me like this is his way of dialling down my intensity when he gets too shy.

I breathe in his earthy scent and plant a delicate kiss on his neck. “I love you.” I breathe against his neck.

“I love you too” he says softly as he kisses my hair.


End file.
